Truth or Dare
by NCCJFAN
Summary: Jealousy can either be a green-eyed monster or a motivator to move on with your life. Jordan choses to move on, until a game of Truth or Dare brings out her and Woody's true feelings for each other. FINISHED
1. The Other Woman

**Disclaimer: I don't own Crossing Jordan or any of the characters…and make no money off of them. I do enjoy playing with some of Tim Kring's creations….and wish he'd get Jordan and Woody together before long. I'm getting tired of waiting…**

**Chapter One**

He was seeing someone else.

She had thought it might be so…she hadn't been positive, but after this afternoon, she knew for sure.

He was seeing another woman.

Jordan sighed and tucked a curl behind her ear. She guessed she should have expected it. She should have even seen it coming. But she had been in denial. Now the truth was staring her plainly in the face.

And she was tall, blonde, thin, blue-eyed, and had at least a 38C bra cup.

In short, she was a walking, talking Barbie doll.

_Everything I'm not_, Jordan thought, as she watched Woody and this….woman…tell each other good-bye at his office one afternoon at lunch time. Jordan was there to pick up some files. She had no idea she would witness Woody involved in what might best be called a prelude to some soft-core porn. Discreetly, she cleared her throat to get his attention and to avoid any possible embarrassment on her part. "Umm…, I'm here to get the Thurgood file, Detective," Jordan said. "Rene' Walcott wants to close that case this afternoon," she gently reminded him.

"Oh. Jordan. Sure. It's in my office," he replied, giving "Barbie" one more kiss and telling her good-bye.

"Gee, Woody," Jordan said, watching the other woman glide down the hall in what could best be called a seductive stroll, "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Kim. Kimberly Dawn Stewart," he replied, with a smile on his face and a far away look in his eyes.

"Known her long?"

"Only a couple of months. Eddie Winslow introduced us. We've been seeing each other ever since." He handed Jordan the file.

Jordan made a mental note to somehow get even with Eddie. "Oh. Thanks," she said, finally looking down at the file in her hands. "I'll get this back to you as soon as I'm done."

"No hurry. Take your time," he said, his ringing cell phone now taking his attention…"Oh, Kim…you left your earrings in my apartment?" he began, turning his attention away from Jordan and to the other woman on the phone.

Jordan left his office and quietly shut the door. She had heard more than she wanted to and knew more than she was comfortable with.

* * *

_How on earth could I possibly even begin to compete with that…with her?_ Jordan wondered as she returned to her office to study over Woody's files and complete her report for Rene' Walcott. _She's beautiful, blonde, and….and…_ Jordan looked down at her small bust line in comparison_, … built_. She suddenly felt less than adequate…less than feminine….less than complete.

A feeling that was new to her.

She had spent most of her professional life secure in her abilities. She was a damn good ME. Her track record proved that. She worked hard. She cared. She got results when most people would have thrown up their hands in defeat.

Personally, in the men department, she hadn't had a problem, either. If she set her sights on a man, she could usually end up with him wherever she wanted him. At a pool table. Across from her at her dinner table.

In her bed.

It was commitment that she had a problem with. If a man wanted to get too close to her personally, she promptly sent him packing.

But Woody had been different. The first two years he had been in Boston, he had patiently followed her around like a puppy dog, just waiting for her to drop him a few crumbs from the table of her personal life. But then he had changed, somehow. Grown a hard emotional shell around him. Jordan would find herself reaching out to him, only to have her hands emotionally slapped away.

Then came Devan. And all his grief that had followed the airplane crash.

Jordan had tried to reconnect with him several months after the young ME's death, but it had been a fiasco. Maybe it had been too soon after Devan's death. Maybe neither were certain about their feelings yet. But they had tried. She had invited him up to her apartment one night after work. They had ordered in Chinese. Tried to define the strange mating/dating dance they had been waltzing around for three years. So this time, when Woody reached for her to kiss her good-night, she didn't back away. She let him.

So he kissed her. Thoroughly. Made her head spin and her body soften against his. He had pulled away and looked at her, finding her eyes dark, her lips soft, and her body willing. Without any further discussion, he had picked her up and carried her to her bedroom, placing her on the bed and joining her there…unbuttoning her blouse, letting her take off his shirt…

And then his phone had rung. It was the precinct and he had to get back to work.

Regretfully, he had put his shirt back on and buttoned her blouse back up. He had gently traced her lips with a finger and whispered, "I wish I could say I'll be back in a little while…but I don't know how late I'll be…anyway…this is probably for the best. We'd both probably have a dozen regrets in the morning." He had bent down, softly kissed her, and shut the door behind him….leaving her cold, alone, and aching for him more than ever.

On one hand, maybe he had been right. Maybe it was for the best they didn't sleep together that night. For it had been less than two weeks afterwards that Jordan began to suspect he had another woman waiting in the wings. He didn't talk to her as much, and seemed preoccupied.

On the other hand, maybe he had been wrong. The only regret she had was that they didn't spend the night together. She loved him and had wanted to tell him so…show him. Instead, her suspicions had been proven right. He was seeing someone else. Kim -- a walking, talking, living, breathing, Barbie doll who was warming his bed at night.

Leaving Jordan alone and out in the cold.


	2. Do It on Your Own Time

**Chapter Two**

If Woody was trying to torpedo Jordan's self-confidence, he was doing a damn fine job. She had felt totally inadequate after Devan's death…she had been unable to comfort him to any degree. He had pushed her away and grieved on his own. There had been nothing she could do…nothing that she was able to do, to make him feel better. She had watched him carefully, making sure he ate, slept, and got to work on time, but she had not been able to ease his distress.

She had finally accepted that, knowing grief takes on different forms and timetables with each person.

But parading his newest conquest in front of her was more than she could deal with. He had brought Kimberly to the Pogue on a Saturday night when Jordan had to work…She couldn't believe his callousness….his lack of concern about her feelings. But at ten that evening, the door to the bar opened and in walked Woody. Jordan had been momentarily glad…hoping they could at least talk tonight.

Then Kimberly had followed him in….dressed in tight, designer jeans and a low-cut blouse that showed her bust line to the best advantage.

And to top off insult to injury, they sat in _their_ booth – Jordan's favorite place to sit with Woody when she wanted to be alone with him….it was in the back corner…dark…secluded….private.

Max had noticed Woody's arrival….and Kim. He shot Jordan a look that plainly asked _What the hell is going on?_ She simply shrugged and continued to wipe down the bar. He had sent another waitress up to take care of the couple, alleviating Jordan from the task. But although she didn't have direct contact with them, she noticed….how Kim leaned across the table to talk to Woody, giving him a great view down her shirt, how she flirted with the detective, stroking his arm.

And noted how Woody was soaking up the attention like a sponge…and enjoying the view. He had taken Kim's hand and kissed her fingers…finally leaning over and lightly kissing her lips.

Jordan wished she could go through the floor. Max, sensing her feelings, sent her into the back to finish inventory.

And that was where he found her hours later, after the bar closed. "What was that about, Jordan?"

"What?" she replied, hoping if she played dumb her father would forget the whole thing. She really had no desire to talk about them….Woody or Kim.

"You know what. Woody…and that….that….whatever she was."

Jordan chuckled. Her father still wouldn't use certain language around her, even though she was a grown woman. "_That_ is Woody's new girlfriend."

Max looked at his daughter for a full beat. "What's happened to you and him?"

"Dad, there never was a me and him. We tried and it didn't work. Woody realized this and moved on. Her name is Kimberly Dawn Stewart. Eddie Winslow introduced them a couple of months ago and they've been seeing each other ever since."

Max made a mental note to start charging Eddie for his beers. "And you haven't…moved on that is."

Jordan guiltily looked down at her clipboard she was working with on inventory. "I don't know…I guess I have to now, don't I?"

"No. Not necessarily. If you still have feelings for the man, you could talk to him….or try to win him back."

Jordan inwardly winced. "I don't think so, Dad. I think I'd be wasting my time."

"Why?"

"Well…you saw Kim…You saw what she looks like. Now look at me. I have no figure, I'm too thin, too tomboyish, and wouldn't know what was in fashion if it stood up and hit me in the face, much less if it looked good on me. She's like a living Barbie doll…"

"Jordan Marie Cavanaugh. I know you're my daughter, but have you looked in the mirror lately? You've turned into a beautiful woman."

"Thanks, Dad. But you're supposed to think that. You're my father. How many dads don't think their daughters are beautiful?"

Max watched as Jordan's face turned from pensive to downright sad. He knew she had long harbored feelings for Woody, but had hid them from herself and the detective for a long time. She may have waited too long. "Look, honey…I'm sure Woody will come around again. After all, you two have to work together. I'm sure seeing you on a day to day basis will jump-start the relationship again at some point."

"Not if he's sleeping with her at night."

Max blinked. She had a point. If this Kim and Woody were sharing a bed, it would make things more difficult for Jordan. "Can I give you a word of advice, sweetheart?" Max finally said.

"Sure Dad. I won't guarantee I'll take it, but I'll listen."

"I hope you will take this bit of advice, Jordan. You need to let Woody go. Physically and emotionally. Let him go. If it's meant to be…if you two are meant to be together, it will happen. Heaven and hell won't be able to keep you apart. But if it's not, then you'll meet someone. He'll find his way to you….just wait and see."

"I don't know, Dad. I'm thirty-five years-old. It hasn't happened yet and I'm not sure if it will," she replied, dubious about the whole scenario Max just laid out.

"It will. The reason it hasn't happened before is that you weren't ready to make a commitment. Now you are. It will happen. Mark my words. Whoever is out there for you, he'll find his way to your door."

Jordan kissed her dad. She knew Max was trying to encourage her, but she wasn't sold on the idea. For one thing, she couldn't imagine another man in her life, except Woody. For another, she didn't know many men who would want to beat a path to her door….not while there were women who looked like Kim out there.

* * *

For once, she tried to take her father's advice. She tried to let go of Woody and her emotions for him.

But he didn't make it easy. Jordan saw the couple together nearly everyday. At lunch. Meeting after work. A couple of times Jordan had called Woody's apartment to ask about a case and Kim answered.

And it seemed every time they were out on a homicide scene together, the blonde would ring Woody's cell phone off the hook. Jordan had heard through the Boston PD grapevine that Woody was showing up late for work…taking longer than normal lunch hours…leaving Jordan to come up with two conclusions: First of all, yes, Woody and Kim were sleeping together. Second, Woody's behavior could be putting his job in jeopardy. She discreetly asked Annie Capra if that may be the case. Annie had answered affirmatively. "He needs to be careful, Jordan. The only reason the chief is cutting Woody some slack right now is that in his past, he's had a perfect record. We're all hoping Woody will self-correct. If not, he may find himself doing desk duty for a while."

Jordan swallowed hard. Woody would die if that was the case. The over-active detective couldn't stand desk duty.

Just as discreetly, she had tried to force the issue with Woody one day while he was in autopsy with her. "Kim's taking up a lot of your time now, Woody," she began one day.

The detective shot her a look. "So….?"

"Don't you think she's interfering with your job just a little too much? Taking time away from being a detective?"

"Maybe…but for the first time in my life, I've got someone of the opposite sex that cares about me….wants to spend time with me…has no issues….and listens to me."

Pain shot through Jordan's heart. She had tried to do all those things, but he had pushed her away. Straightening her back, squaring her shoulders, and looking him straight in the eye, she finally became blunt with him. "Look…I know it's none of my business, but you've told me that all your life, you wanted to be a cop. It's the only thing you wanted to be. Are you going to let her jeopardize that? Your job could be on the line, detective, especially if you come in late in the morning or from lunch again. If you're going to sleep with her, fine. But do it on your on time. And if you're going to talk to her, do that on your on time, too. Not when we're trying to figure out a homicide scene. Don't waste my time dealing with your social life when we're supposed to be serving the citizens of Boston. Understand?" She turned and walked off.

"Jordan." He said her name in the coldest tone she had ever heard come out of him. She turned to face him again.

"You're right. It is none of your business. And another thing. Don't take your jealousy out on me."

"I'm not jealous. Like you said before, if we hadslept together, we'd both probably have a dozen regrets. However, you are a fine detective. I'd hate for Boston to lose you because you can't keep your hormones in check." She turned again and left him alone at the autopsy room.


	3. Music Lessons

**Chapter Three**

And so Jordan's life went on…without Woody. She knew the detective was still seeing Kim. But she had heard through Annie Capra that he was behaving himself…coming into work on time both in the morning and from lunch. She had sighed in relief…she hadn't wanted him fired or confined to desk duty. She hoped his change in behavior was due to her warning in the autopsy room.

They still saw each other. At homicide scenes. At the bar. He would still come to the Pogue, with Kim in tow. Jordan never waited on them. Max saw to that. He wondered many times how his daughter coped with seeing the other woman and having her heart broken all over again. But Jordan never asked to be relieved of her work duties, even though Max had offered.

And Max wondered about Woody and the attraction he had for this woman. Woody had always seemed so solid…believing in traditional values. Kim appeared to have none of those same beliefs. On the outside, Max knew what was appealing to Woody. Kim was everything Jordan said she was…a pretty face, a pretty figure….a pretty package…just like a Barbie And like the fashion doll, Kim's head was just as full of air.

But when a woman looks like that, a man doesn't care what's going on in her mind. He doesn't even care if she has one. And Max believed that's the place Woody was at. Kim knew just what Woody wanted to hear and said it. She flirted with him, stroked his ego, and slept with him. In return, Woody took care of her. Max had heard though his connections at the police department that Woody was paying part of the rent on her apartment and her cell phone bill.

Max had also heard that Woody wasn't the only man she had on her leash. Kim had been spotted with another man at another bar on the nights that Woody had to work. Max wondered if he should tell the detective, but decided against it. Woody may think it was Max's way of retaliating against Woody's rejection of Jordan. Max also knew that odds and luck being what they were, the detective would find out on his own. Infidelity had a way of tripping up people all by itself.

Meanwhile, Jordan was finding her own way of coping. She stayed busy with her work at the morgue…even offering to serve on a task force overseeing the accreditation of the state's crime labs and morgues. Garret didn't know how to react when she volunteered for that. She was the last person he could see involving herself in committee meetings. She just seemed too much of an individual to concern herself with a group opinion.

She still helped Max at the Pogue most weekends, playing bartender, waitress, or office help, depending on what her father needed at the time. If Max saw Woody come in, he would often try to hustle her in the back to do paperwork, away from the couple, trying to keep his daughter's heart and emotions intact. He knew Jordan still loved Woody. It was hard for him as her father to watch her feelings get run over every time the detective came in with Kim.

The weekends she wasn't at the bar or the morgue, she went out with friends…Nigel…Garret…Lily. She even occasionally had dinner with her friend Paul, the priest at St. Inez. But her social calendar wasn't nearly as full as she wanted. So when she read about a songwriting class that was being held at one of the local music stores, she had impulsively signed up.

Her music, her guitar had been her solace during some of the roughest times in her life. Anytime she had left Boston, the guitar had accompanied her. She learned to play shortly after her mother had died, her father enrolling her for lessons in the hopes that they would relieve some of the pain and hurt inside her.

And they did. Music filled a spot in Jordan's soul that nothing and no one else could. But she had always played other people's music. With this class, she would learn to write her own lyrics and music. She eagerly looked forward to her Thursday night classes, showing up for the first one a few minutes ahead of time, guitar in hand.

The classroom was already nearly full, and Jordan finally found a seat next to a man with salt and pepper hair and piercing green eyes. "Hi," he said softly, extending his hand to her, "My name is John. John Perkins."

She shook his hand. "My name is Jordan Cavanaugh. Nice to meet you, John."

"Same here, Jordan. Been playing long?"

"Since I was about ten. What about you?"

"I was about the same age when I started, but I bet I've been playing longer than you have…"

"Really? I've played the guitar for nearly twenty-five years."

"So that makes you thirty-five. I've been playing nearly thirty years."

"And that makes you forty?"

John smiled and nodded.

Class started then and Jordan quickly got caught up in the details of matching lyrics to music. All too soon, the two hours were over, and she and John were putting their guitars in their cases. "See you next week?" he asked.

"Yeah…have a good weekend," she returned.

"You do the same."

The next week she saw him again, and he sat beside her. When class was over, he asked her out for coffee. After a moment's hesitation, she agreed to meet him at Starbucks.

And started a weekly habit between the two of them. After class was over, they'd meet at the coffee shop and talk. She found out he was a lawyer. Jordan had wondered why they had never crossed paths since she was a medical examiner. John had chuckled. "I'm a _real estate_ lawyer," he replied. "I sure as heck hope I don't cross your path…If I do, I'm in big trouble."

Jordan had laughed. It was nice to be with someone who wasn't in her field of work. It was gratifying to have someone who shared her views of music. She found that she was looking forward as much to coffee with John after class as she was to the class itself. And when John asked her out for dinner on Friday, she found herself accepting immediately…not even thinking about it. John was easy to be with…easy to talk to…

But he didn't make her forget about Woody. She sighed as she lay in bed the Friday night after their date. He had taken her out for dinner and a movie. She had a great time. He had gently kissed her on the cheek before he left her at her door.

_Of course he didn't make you forget about Woody. He's John. Not Woody. And you've got to give him a chance….Woody's seeing someone else. There's nothing between the two of you now, not even the remnants of a friendship. So accept John for who he is and what he is….and put Woody behind you. Remember what you once nearly had together with fondness…your last girlhood crush and romance. John's a good man. If something comes out of this relationship, it will be steady and stable…sure, the passion may not be there that was with Woody, but passion isn't everything. You have fun with this man. You two share a lot of common interests and hobbies. And you don't work together….that could be a big plus in his favor. So just go with it now, Jordan. Don't fight it, don't be over anxious….just go with it._

Those were the thoughts running through her head before sleep claimed her. He's John. Not Woody. John. But it wasn't a man with a pair of piercing green eyes that haunted her dreams that night.

No, the man's eyes were decidedly blue.


	4. Who Is He?

**Chapter Four**

**Gotta give credit to Auntkia and her story _He Watched Me Walk Away_ for the inspiration for this chapter. Great story. If you haven't read it, do so. I do so enjoy making Woody squirm.**

**Oh…and lest you think I have something against blondes….I don't. I'm very blonde myself…literally. But graduated MagnaCum Laude…so dumb blonde doesn't fit in my description. :)**

**

* * *

**John met Jordan for lunch several times during the next month. Their music classes were over with, but they still were seeing each other on a regular basis. And Jordan enjoyed going out with him. The one thing that dating John did do for her, it made her begin to think about how she looked. 

John wasn't just a real estate lawyer. Jordan soon came to realize he was _the_ real estate lawyer for all the local bigwigs around the Boston area. When they were out on a date, he was constantly running into his clients….the moneyed folk of Massachusetts. Although John had said nothing to her, she became acutely aware of her clothing. So she went shopping. Several times. Finally updating her wardrobe to that of a modern professional woman and shedding the jeans and t-shirt genre she had been in for so many years. Now she had little skirts and sweater sets…a few nice dresses….high heels and panty hose, for heaven sakes…dress pants…shrunken jackets…scarves….and discreet jewelry. She even was having her nails done.

However, she left her hair alone. She had contemplated cutting it…to a shorter style that was in vogue, but in the end, decided not to. Not because she didn't think it would look good, but because in the heat of their one passionate night together, Woody had whispered to her how much he loved her hair long and wavy. She should cut it just to maybe get a rise out of him.

But it might give him one more reason to ignore her.

So her hair stayed the same length, even if everything else about her changed. John had been awed by the transformation, telling her over and over again how good she looked.

Max had been dumbfounded. "You have no fashion sense?" he questioned, referring back to their earlier conversation in which Jordan compared herself to Kim. "You have no figure? You're too tomboyish? Have you looked in the mirror lately, Jordan? You were beautiful before. Now you're….you're…." Max was nearly speechless. "A _grown woman_," he finally said, thinking of no better words to define his daughter's metamorphosis.

Woody gradually became aware of the change in her…literally running into her one day at the morgue when he needed to retrieve some reports from her. She was leaving her office to meet John for an early dinner and he bumped into her on her way out, nearly knocking her off her high heels. "Whoa. Sorry, Jordan," he reached out to steady her, and slowly took in the sight of her. Gone were the faded jeans and t-shirts. In their place she wore a short black and pink checked skirt and a pink cami with a black jacket over it. She had on sheer black hose and black high heels…at least three inches tall and brought her head up past his shoulder now. A bit taken back, he actually stepped away from her for a second to regain his composure. "Um….I need the reports on the Marsali's autopsy if you've got them finalized," he stammered.

"Oh. Sure." She went back into her office and pulled the reports from her files. "There you go. Need anything else?"

"No. Were you in court today?"

"No. Why?" A moment of panic overtook Jordan…had she forgotten something? A trial?"

"I was just wondering…I mean, you're all dressed up….I've never seen you in that outfit…"

"It's new."

"You look nice," he said, still a little befuddled at her appearance

"Thanks….I think. You sound amazed."

"I mean…I just never have seen you so dressed up before…not even for court."

She smiled. "I have a date, Woody." And with that, she walked passed him with what she hoped was her best seductive stroll.

* * *

_A date…she has a date…._ He thought, all the way back to his office. Who with? If she was dating another detective or police officer, he'd know. Gossip traveled fast in the Boston PD grapevine. So it wasn't anyone in the precinct. And probably not anyone in the morgue, either. That left the answer to his question up to a thousand unknown possibilities. 

It had to be someone special to make her dress like that…For as long as he had known Jordan, he had seen her in a dress or skirt only a few times. Jeans were her everyday de rigor wardrobe.

But today, in that short skirt, high heels, and low-cut cami, she looked better than a model. A professional woman with a hint of seduction. Who was she seeing that made her dress like that?

And why hadn't she ever dressed like that for him? _What reason have you ever given her to dress like that, Hoyt?_ A little voice in the back of his mind questioned. _All you've ever done with her is order take out or delivery….working over cases. The second time she invites you over to her apartment to just "stay," you get called out on work. And decide it's not worth your effort to try to return… that things were just better for the both of you that way, mainly because you were already hooked up with Kim._

Ah. Kim. His temptress with the claws. The increasingly sharp claws. He winced. Kim was beautiful…Kim flattered him…Kim did things to him and for him in bed that he had only dreamed of…some he had never even thought of….

And she was becoming increasingly clingy and whiney. What he had thought was going to be a wonderful relationship….a perfect match of beauty, boobs, and brains, was turning sour. Kim was gorgeous. No doubt about that. And she was built. No doubt about that in Woody's mind or her plastic surgeon's plans. But she was one of those women that gave blondes a bad name. When they had begun seeing each other, he was flattered that a woman that looked like Kim would spend time with him. However, as time wore on, the one thing that Kim knew how to do really well was massage his ego…push the exact buttons she needed to in order to get what she wanted out of Woody.

She wasn't original. She lacked spunk. He was beginning to think she couldn't string two coherent thoughts together in her head. The only place she kept him on his toes was in bed.

In short, she was nothing like Jordan. That was who he really craved. Jordan, with all her issues and feistiness. With her disregard for orders and her impulsiveness. Jordan. He missed her. He regretted more than words could express not returning to her that night in her apartment. The hurt that had spread across her face and echoed in her eyes when he told her that it was better that they not sleep together….they'd regret it….haunted him. He missed her quick mind and her quick tongue…

He missed her kisses. Kim was a born seductress. One brief caress from her could send any man in search of the nearest hotel room.

Jordan's kisses, though tinged with the passion of that night, had been sweet, honest, and totally his. He had heard that Kim was seeing another man behind his back…he couldn't prove it, but he had heard. With Jordan, he knew she was all his…there was no deception there.

Only now she wasn't his. She was seeing someone else. Who? And how serious was she with this guy? He had to find out.


	5. It's None of Your Business

**Chapter Five**

He began to try to catch Jordan with whomever it was she was seeing. He had probed the morgue staff as discreetly as he could, but all he could come up with was that the guy's name was John. "She's given us no clues," Nigel told him. "He never comes into the morgue. Jordan says he's too busy and his job is too demanding. That he often meets his clients for lunch. I know he plays the guitar, because Jordan met him at a music class they took together at the music shop."

"Which music shop?" Woody asked.

"I don't know. I know it's where she buys her guitar strings, because she found out about the class when she went to get some replacements." That was all Nigel could tell him.

Woody had no idea where to even begin looking. There were pages of music shops in the Boston yellow pages. And while he was well aware she played the guitar, he had no memories of her mentioning where she bought anything other than her groceries. He had the wild idea of going to every music shop in the area, flashing his badge, and demanding their class rosters.

But such action would only get him fired.

"Why don't you just ask her?" Nigel finally recommended, after Woody had been back to Jordan's office one more time to try to see if she would slip up and name the man.

The direct approach. He hadn't thought of that. "What if she doesn't tell me?"

"So what? Why do you want to know anyway? You're seeing someone else now. What is Jordan supposed to do? Wait until you're finished with Kim and then see if you want her again? I don't think so," Nigel replied, a hint of anger in his voice.

Woody thought fast. "What if this guy isn't on the up-and-up? What if he's got some sort of shady past that could hurt her….What if…."

Nigel cut him off. "Jordan is a grown woman, Woody. I'm sure that as often as she's gone out with him, at some point, she had him checked out in her own way. She's not stupid and she has access to too many databases and people that know how to use them. I wouldn't worry about that. If I were you, I'd keep my nose out of Jordan's business. She may cut it off for you if she finds out you've been asking her friends questions about her personal life."

Woody nodded and left the morgue. Nigel was right. Jordan wasn't stupid. She was a grown woman.

But he had to know. He just had to know who this John was.

And he did find out. Quite by accident. He finally decided to just ask Jordan who her new boyfriend was.

But not without consequences. It was on a Saturday night, and he knew she was working for Max at the Pogue. He had taken Kim out to eat and then back to her apartment. She had cuddled up next to him…and began to unbutton his shirt. "No. Not tonight. I have to go back into my office," he had told her, stopping her questing hands.

"No you don't. You said you didn't have to work this weekend," she returned, still unbuttoning his shirt and now reaching for his belt. He backed away from her.

"Things change…so do work schedules." He began to redress himself and reached for his car keys.

He heard her hiss from across the room. "You don't have to work. You're going out to look for _her_, aren't you?"

He didn't have to ask who _her_ was. He knew. But he played dumb. "Who, Kim?"

"Her. That medical examiner…Jordan."

Woody paled just a degree. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he countered, trying to regain his composure.

"Don't lie to me. I've heard you asking about her on your phone calls to the morgue. You thought I was asleep, but I heard you this morning, asking Nigel if she was going to be at the Pogue tonight."

"Kimberly, we work together. Sometimes we have to talk about cases. Jordan answers a lot of my calls."

"Then explain why last night….when we were in bed, you called out _her_ name instead of mine?"

Woody ran his fingers through his hair, opened the door of her apartment, turned, and gave Kim a tight smile. "Don't wait up," he said, closing the door quickly behind him.

* * *

_Jesus….I called out Jordan's name…in the middle of making love to Kim? I am so a dead man…._Woody thought as he drove to the Pogue. It was closing time. He planned to wait until the last patrons left the bar, then go in and confront her.

Only after his fight with Kim, he was running late. And the bar was closed when he arrived. But Jordan hadn't gone home. Looking through the windows, he saw her…and him…dancing. The way Woody and she used to, after she closed for the evening. The jukebox was blaring and Jordan and John were dancing. He would spin her out and pull her back to him. She was smiling at John…the same way she used to smile at Woody. From his vantage at the window, Woody swallowed hard. Jordan was having fun. She was enjoying herself.

She was with another man and was happy.

Still he had to know. He'd hang around until she left….hoping against hope she would leave alone. He backed away from the window so he wouldn't be seen and waited until he heard the door open and saw Jordan tell John good night. He also was lucky enough to see John gently kiss her. Woody clenched his fists and stopped himself from going over and knocking the man senseless. The door closed behind the man and Woody saw Jordan begin to lock back up. He walked over and softly tapped on the door.

"We're closed," she shouted out, her back to the door.

"It's against the law for an Irish bar to ever be closed," he shouted back.

_Woody?_ She thought..._what on earth brings him here at this hour_, she looked at him through the door, _alone?_ She unlocked the door again and let him in. "What's up?" she asked. "Something about a case?"

"No."

She looked at him…confusion written all over her face. "Need a beer?" she finally asked.

"Yeah. A beer would be nice."

She pulled a Guinness out, uncapped it, and sat the bottle in front of him. He took a long drink, looked her in the eyes, and asked the question that had been plaguing his mind for days. "Who is he, Jordan?"

"Who is who?"

"You know what I'm talking about. The guy you're seeing now. The one that just left. The one that kissed you good night."

She gave him a hard look. "Why do you want to know?"

"I told you all about Kim."

"Yeah. Well. I'm not much into trading dating stories tonight, girlfriend." She moved away from the bar and began to put the chairs up on the tables. Silently, he began to help her….much like he had done in the past.

"Come on, Jordan. You can at least tell me his name."

"No."

"Why not?"

"To borrow a line you used on me a long time ago…it's none of your business."

"Jordan, I just don't want you to get hurt…"

"Now you think about that…what about that night at my apartment…when you said it was better we didn't make love…that we'd both regret it. You just left me there…never called. Never asked how I felt…if I was okay. Didn't you think that hurt me?"

He lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight…you're right."

Jordan snorted. "Of course I'm right. You weren't thinking about me…you were thinking about her."

_Evidently I thought of you last night….I called your name, not hers, when I climaxed, _he thought. "What's his name, Jo?" he asked again, bringing her back to the subject at hand.

"You know what I'm thinking now, Woody?" Without waiting for him to respond, she went on. "I'm thinking you're jealous."

"Me? Jealous?"

"Yes. You. Know why?"

"I'm all ears."

"Because you lost the best thing that ever happened to you – me. With Kim, you're constantly wondering who she's with…if she's faithful….and I'm sure the only place she really holds your interest is the bedroom…an area you never gave us a chance in, because I'm not blonde, or busty, or tall. But now….you're wondering just how great this fling you're having really is with her….how much does she really care about you, or is she using you to get what she can out of you?

"You lost me, Woody. You chose her over me. And while I'm not perfect, I wanted what was best for you. I didn't use you. I loved you." _I still do, _she added in her thoughts.

Her words stung him. Partially because they called into question his decision about Kim.

But mainly because she spoke the truth…as only Jordan could. Blunt. To the point. Cutting no corners, taking no prisoners. He grew angry at her perceptiveness….her honesty. But finding no reply in his heart, he turned and left the bar…leaving her alone, cold, and aching for him one more time.


	6. The Cabin

**Chapter Six**

They didn't speak for weeks. Not on a personal level, anyway. Any communication between the two was strictly professional. Jordan continued on with her life…work, the Pogue, and John.

And Woody tried to continue on with his. His work as a detective continued to be rewarding, while his relationship with Kim was falling apart….if you could call it a relationship. Ever since the night he had left her to go find Jordan, Kim had kicked her whining into third gear, demanding he spend more time with her…something he was finding increasingly boring … even in the bedroom. He found himself looking for a pair of honey-colored eyes gazing up at him instead of Kim's icy blue ones. He wanted Jordan's body pressed against him at night instead of the silicon mistress that wouldn't leave his bed.

He was nearing the end of his resolve when an unsolved case in Virginia Appalachia Trail hit his desk one morning, peaking his interest because this murder closely matched a series of victims on the Massachusetts' end of the trail. His chief propped on the edge of Woody's desk as the detective read through the file. When he was finished, he gave the chief a questioning glance. "What's this got to do with me? This is Virginia's case."

"Well, they've heard about ours….and they've asked for the lead detective and the ME to fly out tonight and give them some help…exchange information…see if we can't track down the killer together. You're the lead detective on this case….and you know who the ME is."

Indeed Woody did. It was Jordan. He didn't know whether to grin triumphantly over the prospect of spending several days out-of-town and alone with her, or grimace over the frosty atmosphere that would probably pervade their trip.

He was still not sure what to do when he met her at the airport a few hours later. "Hi Woody," she had greeted him calmly. John had come to the airport to see her off. The couple quietly whispered they're goodbyes, and John had gently pressed a kiss to Jordan's forehead before he left her. Woody quickly looked away. It was still difficult seeing her with another man, and while the good-bye wasn't passionate, it was fond. He had only left Kim a note on the kitchen table, saying he would be out of town for a few days on police business and would be unreachable.

Jordan was quiet as they both found their seats on the airplane…beside each other. She went to put her carry-ons in the overhead luggage compartment, but Woody stopped her and did it. "Thanks," was her simple reply and she settled down quietly in her seat. And remained that way until take off. It was then that Woody remembered she hated to fly. Her knuckles grew white in the death-grip she had on the armrests of her seat. He reached out and gently took her hands in his andrubbed soft circles on the backs of them until the plane leveled off. "You okay?" he asked.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "God, I hate to fly."

He gave her a grin. "I remember…you'd rather spend a week driving across country to get to LA rather than spend a day in an airplane."

Jordan inwardly winced. LA. The kiss that had started everything. Leave it to Woody to bring that up. He had kissed her since then…several times…but it was those caresses that had started everything. And some days she thought they would never get beyond what they felt around that campfire. But she was tired now…at least physically. She had pulled a double shift before leaving to fly out to Virginia. She pushed her seat back a little and offered an explanation to him. "I pulled a double last night, Woody. I'm sorry I'm not such a great conversationalist right now…I'm just tired."

"Then get some sleep, Jo. I'll wake you up when we get there."

And he did. He gently shook her awake when she had to buckle for the landing. At sometime during the flight, he had covered her with a blanket and she found her head resting on his chest when he woke her….and his arm around her, holding her snugly against him. She was momentarily disoriented, but all too soon regained her professionalism, much to Woody's chagrin. He missed her warmth when she stood up…her perfume…the feel of her against him. He didn't know when he'd ever have that again…if he ever would. He sighed and gathered his things.

But his luck held. They got to the Virginia ME offices. Woody talked with the detectives on that state's case while Jordan conferred with the ME. And when it was over, the Virginia chief explained their accommodations. "When I heard the name 'Jordan', I assumed it was a man…so I've only got one cabin up on the trail….there's a bed and a sleeper sofa. I hope that's all right, because everything else is booked."

Jordan opened her mouth and Woody was afraid she was going to say that was okay, she'd sleep in the morgue…she'd slept in the Massachusetts morgue and it didn't bother her. Instead, before she could get the first word out, he said, "That's fine, chief. We don't mind at all."

Yesss…….his luck was holding, despite the glare that Jordan was giving him. He mentally gave himself a high-five.

* * *

"Okay, Farm Boy," Jordan said, she unlocked the cabin door and pushed it open for him to bring in the luggage. "I'll take the couch…you take the bedroom. But I have the bathroom first."

"I can take the couch, Jo. You'd be more comfortable in the bed."

"Nope. You see how small that couch is? You'd be complaining all the way back to Boston about your neck and back hurting. I'll fit on it better than you." She opened her suitcase, took out her nightgown, robe, and other things she needed and headed for the bathroom. Meanwhile, Woody surveyed their accommodations. Small kitchenette. One room that served as both living room and bedroom. The bed was against one wall and the couch against another. One bath. No TV. No phone. Fireplace and firewood. If things were different between them, it would be downright romantic. Woody sighed.

But at least he had her one night….maybe they could talk some things out. Maybe they could leave at least being friends again. He looked up as she came out of the bathroom and caught his breath.

Red. Red had always been one of her best colors. Her robe was a silky red creation and from the nightgown peeking out from under the hem, it was the same color. His mouth grew dry, thinking what it would be like to peel the robe away from her shoulders and kiss his way down to her….

But she was oblivious to his discomfort. "Okay, Woody. Bathroom's yours. And I didn't use all the hot water."


	7. Let the Games Begin

**Chapter Seven**

She was asleep when he got out. _She must be exhausted_, he thought, tenderly tucking the blankets around her just a little more snugly, wishing he had the freedom to carry her to his bed and settle her in next to him. Just hold her all night. Wake up next to a pair of golden-brown eyes instead of Kim's cold, blue ones. Maybe even steal a good morning kiss. Instead, he banked the fire he had started in the fireplace and got into his own bed that seemed far too solitary and far too big for just one person. Woody shivered as he pulled his own blankets around him. It was cold…even by mountain standards for April. He glanced at Jordan. He hoped she would be warm enough.

He woke the next morning to the light glaring in the window and beating down in his eyes. For a second he thought he had overslept – it was so bright outside. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that wasn't the case. It was only six. Their flight didn't leave until ten. Groggily, he got up and made his way over to the window to shut the curtains and try to gain them both a few more minutes rest. But what he saw out the window brought only one exclamation to his mouth.

"Oh. God. No."

His voice woke Jordan, who grabbed her robe and joined him at the window. She took a deep breath and said, "Shit."

There was at least three feet of snow on the ground. Their tiny rental car had snow up past its tires. Everything was frozen solid underneath the white, fluffy stuff. There was no way they were going to get out today. The road up to the cabin was narrow and winding. Even if a truck could get to them, and that was a big if, it would be too treacherous to try to make the trek back down the mountain. He looked at Jordan wordlessly. She was nearly glaring at him. "Don't blame me. I swear I had nothing to do with this," he told her. "The weatherman said nothing about snow yesterday."

"Call the chief…find out if there's anything they can do. I need to get back to work…and John's expecting me this afternoon."

Woody swallowed hard and dialed the chief's number on his cell phone while Jordan was trying to contact Garret. After a few brief words with the chief, he turned back to Jordan. "The chief says there's food, beer, and drinks in the 'fridge, and a truck may be able to get up here the day after tomorrow. This snow's caught everyone by surprise and they weren't ready for it this late in the year."

Jordan nodded. Garret had told her not to worry about it, just get home as quickly as she safely could. Her call to John had been a little more dicey. John wasn't happy with the situation, but knew Jordan had no control over it. Woody overheard him telling Jordan to be careful…and watch herself. _What does he think I'm going to do? Jump her?_ He thought.

"So now what do we do?" he finally asked her.

"I'm getting dressed," she replied, grabbing some clothes out of her suitcase. A few minutes later she emerged from the bathroom and Woody took her place. When he came out, he found her studying the skiing brochures someone had left on a table in the living area.

"New hobby?" he asked.

"No… just something to do to pass the time."

"What time is it?"

"Nearly nine."

"Too early for a beer."

She gave him a regretful look. "Yeah."

"We could talk about the case…work on it."

She eagerly nodded. It would be something to do to make the time go faster. They spread out the files…the papers…the pictures… and swapped theories and ideas for several hours. It was a good way to reconnect…a neutral one. Woody watched her face as her carefully crafted frosty attitude toward him slipped away. Finally, he checked his watch one more time. "Noon. What about that beer?"

"Now we can have one." She got up and went to the refrigerator, pulled out two of the beverages, and brought them back to the living room. "Cheers," she said, lightly tapping her bottle to his."

He smiled back at her. "This is enough for one day," indicating all the work they had spread out. "Or at least for right now. Maybe later. Let's let our brains to rest." He gathered the information up and placed it on the table with the ski brochures. They finished their beers in silence, both sitting on the floor. But the tense atmosphere between them was gone. For that Woody was thankful.

"So now what?" Jordan asked. "Any more cases in that duffle bag of yours?"

"Nope. Not a one. What about yours?'

"Me, either," she blew out a sigh. "I suppose we could play Twenty Questions."

"Nah. We've done that before with each other. I think we should play something else," he said, giving her a mischievous grin.

"Okay, I'll bite detective…what do you have in mind."

"Truth or Dare."

"We don't have any whiskey and I don't want to drink all our beer at once if we're going to be here more than a day or two."

"Don't have to. We'll do it like we used to do in high school."

"I used whiskey in high school, Woody."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me. We'll do it the way I used to do it in high school."

"How'd you do it in Wisconsin?"

"I'll ask you a question. You can either give up the truth….or accept a dare. And no cheating. You have to follow through with the dare. Then you ask me a question and I have to do the same thing."

Jordan gave him a dubious look. For a minute, Woody thought she was going to turn him down flat. Then he said those three words Jordan had never been able to back away from: "I dare you."

"You're on Farm Boy. Got a quarter we can toss to see who goes first?"


	8. Truth or Dare

**Chapter Eight**

Jordan won the toss. "Let me think a minute," she said. Last time she had played this game was at a dinner party at her apartment months before she met Woody. And Nigel had supplied the questions. "Okay….tattoos. Got any tattoos, Woody?"

He grinned. "That's easy. Truth. And the answers no. No tattoos on this body. My turn."

He noted her nervous look. "What about you? Any tattoos?"

She smirked. "Truth. Yeah. One."

Woody's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Where?"

She laughed. "That's two questions…and I answered the first. So now it's my turn. Hmmmm…okay. First car wreck. How old were you?"

"Truth. Seventeen. I accidentally hit a mailbox backing out of my best friend's driveway. My turn. Where's the tattoo?"

Jordan blushed slightly, trying to decide whether or not to show him or take his dare. "How bad are the dares going to get?" she hedged.

"You'll just have to wait and see."

"Okay….Truth." She got to her knees from where she had been sitting and unbuttoned the top of her jeans and pushed the waistband down a few inches. There, dancing across her hipbone was a tiny butterfly, done in minute perfection. Just as quickly as she had shown it to him, she pulled the waistband back up and refastened her pants. Woody tried to regain normal breathing again. "My turn," she said, thinking a minute. "First kiss. Where was it and who was it with?"

"Truth. Debbie Mansing. Fourth grade. Under the jungle gym on the playground…after school."

"Wow. They start you young in Kewuanne, don't they?"

He gave her a wicked grin. "Now you. Where was your first kiss and who was it with?"

"Truth. Tommy Bolby. Eighth grade. Valentines Day dance at school."

_This is too easy…_ Woody thought. _It's time to turn up the heat just a little_. "Now me. When did you lose your virginity?"

"That's a little personal, Woody."

"You can always take the dare."

"I don't think so. Truth." She did turn red this time. "Twenty-one," she said quietly.

He softened immediately. He didn't mean to embarrass her. And he didn't expect that answer…Sheswiftly regained her composure. "How about you?" she quickly asked.

"Truth. Nineteen. Wish I could say I waited as long as you did. First car?" he asked, beginning to steer the game back to more neutral ground.

"Truth. Mustang."

And the game continued for another hour or longer, with both of them being careful to keep the questions from getting too personal again. Finally, Woody got two more beers from the refrigerator. After drinking more than half, he returned to the game. "If I remember correctly, it's my turn. How long have you been dating John?"

She gave him a glare. He carefully avoided looking at her. "Truth. Four months."

_So she didn't start seeing him until after that night in her apartment._ Woody swallowed hard. He thought he knew what Jordan's next question would be.

"What's Barbie's bra cup size?"

That wasn't what he expected and the look on his face said it. She grinned at him. "Come on…tell me the truth or take my dare."

He wasn't going to be the first to take the dare. Feeling the sweat begin to pop out on his forehead, he said, "Truth. 38C."

"Wow. You like them big."

"If it's any consolation, they're not all hers."

"Little help from Dr. Silicon?"

"Just a bit. My turn. How big is your bra cup?"

Jordan nearly spewed her beer. Laughing, she said, "Truth. Not as big as hers."

"No fair. You have to give me a number."

"No one said that. I just have to answer the question. And I did. My turn. Are you happy, Woody?"

_Ouch. That's different_. Taking a deep breath, he answered. "Truth. No."

It was her turn to look surprised. "Why?"

"Uh-uh, Dr. Cavanaugh. You didn't let me ask two questions in a row. You can't either. Now it's my turn. Who's a better kisser, me or John?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Truth or dare….who's a better kisser, me or John?"

"Do I have to answer that?"

"You can take the dare."

There was no way she was going to answer that question. It wasn't fair to anybody involved….and she hated comparisons. "You're both different," she tried to reply.

"That's not what I asked. I asked you who you thought was better – me or him. You're bound to have an opinion."

Swallowing hard, she said. "I'll take the dare."

"Kiss me."

"Woody…"

"That's the dare. Kiss me." And his eyes were daring her to complete the act.

"Come on, Woody…."

"Nope. You know the rules. You took the dare. Come here and kiss me."

_Just a little one won't hurt_, she thought as she turned to him and leaned in to lightly touch his lips with hers, _then we'll stop this silly game_.

Only things weren't working out like she had planned. Woody's lips were smooth and pliant beneath hers, gently caressing hers back, willing her to want more…coaxing her to linger there a little longer…deepen the kiss just a little more. Unconsciously, she moved closer to him and did just that, then feeling his arms snake around her in response. _This is getting out of control_, she thought, as his teeth caught her lower lip and softly tugged at it, opening her mouth for him. Soon those kisses they shared in the desert paled in comparison to the passion that was mounting in the snowed-in cabin. His tongue gently began tangling with hers….For endless minutes she was lost…in him…in his kisses.

Then the voice in the back of her head broke in: _This is a game. Are you going to let this man break your heart again?_

Pulling away, she said breathlessly, "I took the dare….maybe we should stop now."

"No way. I still have some questions I want answered. But it's your turn now."

Jordan had just as many questions. And if they were going to use the game as a vehicle to clear the air, she was all for it. She just couldn't let him touch her again…as much as she wanted him to. "Okay. Here's one for you. Why'd you choose Kim over me?"

"What if I decide I want the dare on this one?"

"I hope you'll tell me the truth…no matter how much it hurts. I need to know."

He ran his fingers through his hair and finally spoke. "Okay," he said quietly, "Truth. I needed someone who needed me. You could get along with me or without me just fine. It was like I didn't really matter. If I stayed in Boston, you'd be content just flirting with me. If I left, it wouldn't break your heart….you'd go on with your life. You wouldn't ask me to stay….or follow me and try to get me to come back. You didn't need me. Kim made me feel…needed…wanted. At least at the beginning…now….well, now I don't know. I guess that's why I'm unhappy."

Jordan looked away after his confession, biting her lip so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. _He thinks I don't need him?…Jesus…..I needed him…need him more than I need my next breath. _Somewhat regaining her composure, she said, "I don't know what made you think I didn't need you. I did…so badly. When you were with Devin, and then when you were trying to get over her death, I missed you so very much. It hurt horribly when you pushed me away." Her voice broke. "And then when you left me that night in my apartment…after what you said about regrets. I know the only regret I had that night was that we didn't make love." She swallowed and sniffed back her tears. "But I guess that's all in the past…water under the bridge. It doesn't matter now, does it?"

Woody reached out and gently turned her tear-stained face so he could look at it. "I think so. I think it does matter, Jordan."


	9. Truth or Dare II

**Chapter Nine**

He brushed the tears from her eyes with the back of his fingers…for a moment she reveled in his light touch, then to her horror she found that it only made her cry more…the tears chasing one another down her cheeks. _This will never do_, she thought. _He can't see me cry…I don't want him to_. She tried to get up and make her way to the bathroom, only to find he blocked her.

"No running, Jordan. Not this time. We need to get this all out in the open."

Reluctantly she sat back down on the floor, trying to inch a little further away. He would have none of that, either, closing the gap between them until her back was against the couch. "I shouldn't have pushed you away," he started.

"Well, like I said…it's all water under the bridge. I guess it really doesn't matter now. I mean, you've got Kim and I have John…we've gone on with our lives."

"You asked me this question Jordan, so I'm going to ask you the same one: Are you happy?" Woody gently took her hands.

She drew in a breath that wasn't quite as steady as she would have like for it to have been. "I don't know…content…maybe. Work is good. And my relationship with John is ….is …."

"Is what? Better than ours was? Passionate? Warm?" He was looking in her eyes now, willing her not to look away.

"It's…I don't know…I guess it's normal. We see each other…have a lot in common. We get along well."

"Truth or dare. Are you two living together?"

"Truth. No."

"But you've talked about it."

"He's mentioned it. I'm not too sure I want to. My turn. Truth or Dare. Are you and Kim living together?"

"Truth…no. She has her own apartment and I still have mine. Truth or dare, Jo. Be honest. Have you slept with him?"

She felt her cheeks grow warm. She answered so softly he nearly had to bend down to hear her answer, she replied, "Truth. No. But he wants to."

Woody drew a deep breath. "Jordan…"

"No…it's my turn. I realize you're sleeping with Kim. So I just want to know one thing. Truth or dare. Do you regret not making love to me that night…back in my apartment?"

"Truth. Yes. So many times. I wish I could go back and change what happened…or didn't happen then, and take back what I said. But I can't. And I do regret it. I'll regret it for as long as I live."

She lowered her head. "It's good to know you regret it, too. At least we have that much left."

"A heart full of regrets?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't make you realize how much I did need you. I guess I'm just too independent…I know I come across as not needing anyone…that I'm fine by myself. But I'm not. I'm just like anybody else. The only problem is, I just hide it better than most people."

"Truth or dare….Then do you still need me, Jordan?"

She looked back up at him, only to find his face inches away from her own. What was in her heart was having a difficult time translating into words to come out her mouth. But her eyes spoke volumes to him. He gently reached out and cupped her cheek, tilted her chin up with his thumb, and found her lips again, this time not letting her break away.

And this time she didn't want to. She completely ignored the warning voice in the back of her head. She kissed him back, opening her mouth for him, sliding her arms around his neck, and letting her tongue tangle again with his. It was that way for long breathless minutes…Woody maneuvered her into his lap, her straddling his legs, and facing him. He toyed with the hem of her sweatshirt, running his thumbs along the waistband of her pants. Getting no resistance from her, he softly slid his hands up the inside, skating along her ribs, marveling at the baby-soft texture of her skin.

Until his palm came in contact with her breast. Her bare breast. Jordan wasn't wearing a bra. He groaned against her lips, only to hear her chuckle. A chuckle that changed to a moan when he gently kneaded one and then the other. "Woody…" she said, her voice sounding weak, even to her.

"Want me to stop?" His lips were caressing the side of her neck now.

"No…please…no."

His eyes locked with hers for a moment. "No?'

"Don't stop," she whispered, claiming his lips again, and letting him push the sweatshirt up higher, breaking away from him only to let him take it off, then turning her attention to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them and running her hands down his chest. Jordan wasn't sure how long they were there together like that, but soon Woody stood, taking her slight weight with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed.

Sometime in the middle of the tangled sheets and tangled legs, she felt him tug off her jeans and she returned the favor…and then everything got hazy as her nerve endings only remembered how he made her feel….tingle…from the trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses he left from her shoulders to the tiny butterfly tattoo on her hip bone….to the quivery sensations his hands caused as he touched her. She remembered hearing him moan against her lips as she likewise explored his body.

If they had regrets before, there would be none after today. She heard herself call out his name from somewhere….it sounded far away…only to have him answer with her own in return.

And when it was over, they slept…through the rest of the afternoon and early evening, only to wake up and do it again.

A ringing of a cell phone jolted them both awake the next morning. Woody flipped the phone open. "Hoyt," he said softly. "Hmmmmm. Okay. No. That's fine. We'll be ready." Closing it back up, he ran a hand down Jordan's back, lightly cupping her bottom. "That was the chief. They'll be up here to get us this afternoon to take us to the airport."


	10. Where Angels Fear to Tread

**Chapter Ten**

All too soon Jordan found herself back on an airplane with Woody by her side. Once again, lacking sleep, but this time for very different reasons. She blushed when she remembered.

After the chief had called, there had been a flurry of activity to get ready to go. They had showered, realizing that was probably going to be their one last time together before they left. They had packed quickly and were waiting for the truck when it arrived to pick them up. Woody had handed the keys to their rental car over to the chief, who promised to return it as soon as the snow had melted a little more. They arrived at the airport within minutes of their flight leaving. There had been no time to talk.

Until now. Woody gently took her hand, she turned to face him. "You okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah." She hesitated for a beat. "It's going to be awkward now, isn't it? This … thing…between us. Especially while we're both involved with someone else."

He slowly nodded. Neither of them had given any thoughts to who was waiting for them at home. There had been no time. Neither of them had wanted to.

"So what are we going to do now?" she asked.

He took a deep breath. "Go back home. See how things pan out." He looked directly into her whiskey-colored eyes. "Stay in touch."

Jordan swallowed hard. She didn't know how she could bear knowing Kim was still with him. She wasn't sure what she was going to do about John. Softly, she asked, "Truth or dare, Woody. Do you regret yesterday?"

Still holding her gaze, he replied, "Truth. No. No regrets, other than I can't stay with you tonight."

She looked away then, out the window, willing her tears not to come. She knew he couldn't stay with her until she untangled herself from John and he did the same with Kim. Somehow between the two, she knew Kim would be harder.

Somehow, she wasn't sure if Woody really would tell the blonde to leave.

However, she was sure of herself. She loved Woody. She had never stopped. And she was at the point, if it came to just accepting what little time he could give her, she was nearly ready to do so.

* * *

Their respective partners met them at the airport, Kim falling all over herself to get at Woody. John's greeting was quieter, but full of affection. Jordan tried not to watch as Kim hugged and kissed Woody, and Woody likewise tried to avoid looking at John kiss Jordan.

Days moved on after that. Jordan realized soon after returning that it wasn't fair to John to keep seeing him, perhaps unintentionally leading him on in the hopes that other aspects of their relationship may develop. As gently as she could, she told him it was over…and it had nothing to do with him. He was a wonderful guy, but her heart was held in a cold deadlock for the love of another man. John had long suspected…but had hoped against hope he would eventually win her heart. "You're a great woman," he told her. "I hope Woody realizes that. But if he doesn't, I hope you won't spend the rest of your life waiting on him."

But Jordan had been right in one aspect. Kim was much harder for Woody to disengage himself from. If she had been clingy and whiney before their trip to Virginia, she was worse when they got home. Jordan still overheard conversations between Kim and Woody when she was out on a call with the detective, but while at one time, the blonde would have his complete attention, now Woody barely answered her. Often, he would switch her calls over to his voice mail, grimacing when he saw her number come up on caller ID.

Jordan no longer hid herself when the couple came to the Pogue. While she wouldn't wait on them, she didn't go back into her father's office and take care of the paper work. She was making it clear to Kim and to Woody, that while she wouldn't fight for Woody, she was standing her ground. She knew she loved him, but Woody would have to come to her.

That would be the only way she knew he was really serious….really honest.

And really wanted only her.

She knew her heart. She loved him. She needed him. But Woody had to make a decision. He had to tell Kim the truth….because the dare on this gamewould mean he lost Jordan for good.

* * *

Woody tried. He kept putting Kim off. He had done everything but tell her outright what had happened in that cabin. He kept hoping she would take the hint and move on to the next man…or the man she was seeing behind his back. But every time he tried to talk with her, she'd brush him off, or avoid the subject, or threaten, or resort to tears. Or worse, try to seduce him.

That was the hardest for him. Not because he gave in….No. He hadn't slept with her since before he and Jordan went to Virginia and wasn't planning on doing so again. The only woman he wanted sharing his bed now was a brown-eyed medical examiner with long chestnut hair and a cute butterfly tattoo on her hip. The difficult thing was making Kim believe he no longer wanted her…not in any way. Not her arms, not her kisses, not anything she could do for him or to him. He only wanted her out of his life as soon as possible.

He wanted to see that butterfly tattoo again.

And Kim wasn't cooperating.

He also knew Jordan wouldn't let him be with her until the other woman was completely out of the picture.

As a result, he had mixed emotions when he saw Jordan that week. She was the ME on duty and caught his homicide call. There had been a shooting outside a strip mall in one of the seedier parts of Boston. He always feared for her safety in that part of town. The police had Kevlar. The ME's had nothing. Of course, it was always assumed they were called in after all the shooting was over. But a worry always niggled the back part of Woody's mind, _what if something happens…what if a dormant crime scene suddenly becomes active again…could she be hurt? Could she take cover in time?_

Over time, that worry had nearly died down. They had worked together nearly four years now and the only time Jordan had gotten hurt at a scene was when she ignored his orders and rushed in where angels had feared to tread.

So he really wasn't thinking about anyone getting hurt that morning. The crime scene was dormant. Jordan was there only to collect evidence and the bodies. It was a typical homicide scene. He was walking with her through the scene…not so much trying to get a handle on the homicides as he was trying to gauge her feelings….where they were at. But it was difficult…she had her sunglasses on and he couldn't see her eyes.

There was a reason for that. She wasn't sleeping well at night…and when she did finally doze off, she dreamed of him. Dark circles ringed her eyes … and she didn't want him to know. He had to make his decision on his own…without any persuasion from her whatsoever. She was only half-listening to what he was saying about the shooting when a movement caught her eye. She saw the glint of the sun against a shiny object and heard a faint click. Without thinking, she pushed him down and out of the way.

Woody hit the ground hard, not sure if the loud explosion that echoed through his ears was the result of his head hitting the ground of the gunfire. He rolled over to check Jordan and make sure she was all right….she had hit the ground right after him.

Red. All he saw was red….the crimson color of blood. She was shot. And he didn't know how badly.

She had rushed in this time where angels had feared to tread…and this time, hedidn't protect her.


	11. A Long Wait

**Chapter Eleven**

There were sirens and lights….and suddenly a scene that should be familiar territory to a homicide detective became decidedly too unfamiliar.

Because someone he loved was involved.

Woody watched helplessly as the paramedics loaded Jordan on a stretcher and placed her in the ambulance. After flashing his badge at them, they allowed him to climb in the front seat with the driver and go to the hospital with them.

He tried to see what was wrong…what were they doing to her, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure exactly where she was shot…he just remembered thinking that there simply couldn't be anymore blood left in her.

Because it was all on the sidewalk where she had lain. He had cradled her there and called out her name, but her eyes had remained closed….and her breathing…God, was she even still breathing? He couldn't remember. But the steady beep and hum of the medical equipment she was hooked up to gave him some reassurance.

Funny, he had always imagined it would be him that might be injured this way…the victim of not-so-random gunfire.

He never anticipated it might be her. Not like this. Not this bad. And not while he was there to protect her.But he hadn't been able to keep her safe today. He had never even seen it coming. But she had. And she put herself in harm's way for him.

The hospital corridors became a blur. He tried to persuade the doctors to let him go back with her, but he was soundly refused. He wasn't her husband. He wasn't her next of kin. He wasn't anything…not even her boyfriend. Not really.

He was sitting in the emergency room waiting area, his head in his hands when Garret found him there a couple of hours later. "Hey Woody," he greeted the detective.

"How's she doing, Dr. Macy?"

"I don't know. They're not telling me anything, either. Max is with her now."

Woody nodded, blinking back the tears and exhaustion from his eyes. "When will we know something?"

"Max said he'd be out as soon as he could….I just know there's three doctors with her and God only knows how many nurses. Nigel and Bug will be here as soon as they can. Lily's on her way now."

Time dragged …. It seemed hours, but in reality it was only minutes until Max's tall form filled the waiting room. His eyes were red-rimmed and his face carried the anxiety that only a parent's can have when their child is hurt. "She's taken a bullet to the abdominal area and one higher up…it missed her heart, but it went through her lungs and lodged in her back. She's in surgery now….her vitals are weak, but stable…she's lost a lot of blood…that's what took so long. They couldn't get her into surgery until she was stable." Max sat down heavily on a couch.

"How long will the surgery take?" asked Garret.

"They don't really know….They won't know anything until they get inside her," Max replied.

Lily soon arrived, followed shortly by Nigel and Bug. To Woody's surprise, Eddie Winslow came in after awhile, too. "Woody….thought you'd be here. Been trying to get you on your cell phone."

"They won't let me have it on in here…and to be honest, I haven't really thought about calling in… sorry."

"That's okay. When I heard Jordan was hurt, I knew this is where you'd be." Eddie pulled him to the side. "Kim's been ringing the office phone off the hook. She couldn't get you on your cell….I didn't know what to tell her. So I finally made the excuse you were in court and I didn't know when you'd be through."

Woody frowned. With all Jordan was going through…Kim was the least of his concerns. He would call her….later….maybe. "I'll take care of it," he said.

Two hours passed. Then three. Finally after it had been nearly four hours, Max was called to the desk. The doctor would be out shortly to speak with them. The group formed a tight knot around the entrance way. A few minutes later, Dr. Latham came out, still in his scrubs, to talk with them.

"She's critical, but stable. The bullet that entered her abdomen hit pretty cleanly and exited the back. We had to do some repair work on that one, but it should heal nicely with time. The one in the lungs…that did some damage. We had to remove some of the lower left lobe. Not a lot….but we couldn't repair it. It nicked some ribs, did some other tissue damage. She's going to need quiet, rest, and time to heal. She lost a lot of blood….and there wasn't a lot there to begin with. She's very petite. We're going to watch her for the next several days in CCU, then move her to her own room. We've got her pretty medicated right now…she's still in recovery. I'll let you know when she's in her room and you can see her….two at a time and only for a few minutes. Don't tire her out. Understand?" Dr. Latham explained.

Max nodded as the rest of the group agreed and returned to the waiting room. The nurse let them know when they could begin going up to see her. First it was Garret and Max. Then Lily and Nigel. Eddie and Bug. Woody hung back. He wasn't sure Jordan would want to see him. Max noticed the detective's hesitation. "Son, she's asking for you….she's been asking for you since the minute she came to. She wants to see you and know you're all right." Woody made the trip by himself, thinking the elevator ride took forever.

Down the hall and to the right…she was in the bed….looking far too small and fragile to be Jordan Cavanaugh. Her eyes were closed and he was afraid she was asleep. But they blinked open when she heard him come in. "Woody…" she softly said.

"Hey…." He came over and took the hand she was holding palm up for him. She has in a hospital gown, bandaged heavily….and had bruises and scrapes on her face and arms where she took the fall. "How are you feeling?" he asked, all the while thinking what a lame question that was to ask…but he had to know.

She grinned weakly. "Okay…considering. How are you? Are you okay? Did anything hit you?" She was still worried about him.

He carefully sat on the side of her bed, careful not to disturb the myriad of tubes and wires. Gently, he stroked her check with his fingers. "I'm fine. Nothing hit me, thanks to you." He felt her face tilt up to meet his hand.

"Good," she said, her eyes beginning to drift shut again. Thinking she was asleep, he quit stroking her cheek, put her arm back under the covers, and turned to go. Her soft, "Don't…please…" called him right back to her bedside.

"I'm here, Jordan."

"Stay with me…for a few minutes….until I'm asleep?"

"Of course…for as long as you want me to." He reached for her hand again and felt her fingers tighten slightly around his. He stayed there until her breathing evened and he felt her fingers relax.


	12. More Fun and Games

**Chapter Twelve**

Her state of consciousness came and went for a while, mainly as a result of the drugs they had her on for pain. But her condition improved and a matter of a few days she was put in a private room out of CCU. Max stayed with her the first night…Woody saw him there the next morning, noting the older man's exhaustion. "Max, I'll stay with her tonight…you've been up here the whole time…let me stay tonight."

"She's my daughter, Woody."

"I know. And she may need you more when she gets out of the hospital than she does right now. And if you're too tired….or have made yourself sick, you won't be any good for her."

Max reluctantly agreed. "But you're one to talk…you've been here just as much as I have."

Woody had. Every minute he could spare from work….after he got off work…..until Max would order him home around midnight. "You have a job, son," he told him. "Leave my daughter to me…you go home and rest. If anything changes, I'll call you." It had rejoined a bond between the two men that had been broken long ago after James and the Malden case.

However, the bond between Woody and Kim was dissolving. She was still calling him, but he no longer took her calls. He had told the receptionist at the precinct not to tell her that Jordan was in the hospital, nor to let Kim know where he was during his breaks or at lunch … checking on Jordan. SoWoody knew Kim had no idea that he was spending his evenings with an unconscious woman in CCU at Boston General.

Woody went home from work that evening and changed into jeans and a comfortable shirt. It was Friday, and he didn't have to work the weekend, so he could stay with Jordan for as long as he liked…or as long as she would let him. He had a gut feeling the lady wouldn't like being watched over so closely, no matter how sick she was.

Jordan was asleep when he got there. She was, of course, still on medication to make her rest and sleep….and they both dozed for while that evening…but the meds she was on now wasn't nearly as strong as the ones she had taken in CCU. At midnight, Woody began to hear her move around in the bed. Then he heard her call his name…she was dreaming. And it wasn't pleasant…he could tell by the tone of her voice. She was frightened.

"Jo…Jordan….I'm right here. Sweetheart…" He gently shook her. "Wake up…you're dreaming."

Her eyes shot open and held his blue ones for a minute before he felt her body relax beneath his hands. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She shook her heard. "Dreamed…that you had been hit by the bullets…I didn't get you out of the way in time."

"It was just a dream. I'm fine." He held her hand against his chest to reassure her with his heartbeat. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"It was so real…"

"It was just a dream," he said, continuing to soothe her until she went back to sleep.

And all was peaceful until the next morning when the sound of high heels tapping down the halls of the hospital woke him up. He knew who it was.

It was Kim.

"What are you doing here….with her? Why haven't you answered my calls….my messages?" the blonde hatefully spit out.

"Jordan was hurt…shot….at a homicide scene a few days ago. If she hadn't pushed me out of the way, I'd be the one here in the bed…not her. I owe it to her to stay with her."

"That's why there are doctors and nurses. They can take care of the ME….I want you with me." She reached for his shirt.

Woody firmly pushed her hand away. "No. No Kim. Not anymore. You need to leave now. Don't call me again. Don't show up at my apartment. It's over."

"You chose her over _me_?" she asked incredulously. It was clear she couldn't understand Woody's thinking. "Her? Look at her….she's thin and has no figure. She's …plain, Woody. And I bet she could never do what I do for you," Kim purred.

Woody felt the anger boil beneath his skin. Keeping his voice a whisper, but putting force behind it, he told her, "Out. Now. Don't come back. Don't call me. Don't come to my apartment. I never….ever….want to see you again.

"Yes, I've chose Jordan over you….for reasons you couldn't even begin to understand. It's over. Leave." He turned her toward the door, held her elbow, escorted her to it, closing it behind her when she left.

Returning to the bed to find Jordan looking at him. Her eyes told him she had heard most of the conversation. "Ummmmm," he mumbled. "Sorry about that, Jo. I didn't know she was coming. Honest. I don't know how she found out you were here."

Grinning up at him, she took his hand and tugged him down to sit on the bed with her. Weakly she said, "Truth or dare, Woody. You love me."

He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. "Truth. I do. Very much."

"Good. Because I love you, too. And that's the truth."

* * *

She recovered faster than anyone expected….leaving the hospital within two weeks of her injuries. Her father said it was due to great medical care and the good Lord still answering a few prayer requests.

Jordan chalked it up to the loving attention of Woody. There was no way he wasn't going to let her get better.

She had gone back to her father's house. He could be with her during most of the day and Woody was staying with her at night. During the daytime, she lay on the couch in the living room. In the evening, when she was sleepy, Woody would carry her upstairs and tuck her in, remaining with her until Max got home.

Despite being ill, Jordan cherished these times. She got to see more of her father.

And she had time alone with Woody. She had laughed at him the first time he had helped her change her bandages. He had held his breath as he undid the one on her abdomen. To his great relief, the butterfly was still there….intact. "You have no idea how much I've missed seeing that little creature," he teased.

"Well…give me a while longer and you can see it up close and personal again," she rejoined.

He grinned. "When you feel like another game of Truth or Dare?"

"Yeah…or Spin the Bottle?"

"Oh…you've played that one, too? What about Post Office?"

"I'm as good as the US mail…neither rain nor snow nor sleet….nor hail…"

"So you deliver?" he teased, bringing a blush to her cheeks.

"Every time," she shot back, making his face turn red this time.


	13. Three Times a Week

**Chapter Thirteen**

Three months passed…Jordan made a rapid recovery, to everyone's relief. Other than still tiring easily, she was out of the woods….back at work….doing remarkably well. Woody had been with her nearly constantly while she was at her father's house. Staying with her while Max was gone….often still staying with her while he was there. It was as if Woody thought that something awful would happen to her if she was out of his sight more than ten minutes.

She had laughed at his seeming paranoia over her. "Yeah, but you didn't see you bleeding out on the sidewalk," he retorted, all the while gently holding her close to him, careful not to hurt her injuries.

"I'm fine, Woody. I'm pretty much healed. Even Dr. Latham says so."

"You still get tired easily."

"That's to be expected…and I'll get over that, too."

"Well….feel like maybe dinner out tonight…movie at my place for a change of scenery?"

It sounded wonderful. Jordan had seldom left Max's house except to go to work. She would return home exhausted, often falling asleep on the couch, her head in Woody's lap. But today was Saturday and she didn't have to work…

He took her to an early dinner and then back to his apartment. The movie he had chosen was singularly boring…or so it seemed to him. Finally switching off the DVD player and the TV, he pulled her close. "That movie was so over rated," he complained.

"I thought it was just getting to the good part. Why'd you switch it off?"

"I'm not interested. I mean, it's me….you…alone…finally. You're feeling better. Your dad, though I love him, is nowhere in sight…and you want to watch a movie."

Jordan shrugged. "We could play Truth or Dare…That was always pretty interesting."

His mouth kicked up at the corners with a wicked grin. "So true…..do you feel up to it?"

"I think so."

"If you get tired, will you let me know?"

"Yes."

"Call it – head's or tail's," he said, pulling a quarter from his pocket.

"Heads."

It was tails. Woody won the toss.

"Okay…." He began, looking into her eyes. "Truth or dare….Are you really feeling better, or is this just an act to get your dad to let you move back to your apartment?"

"Truth," she promptly replied. "It's not an act. I do feel better. My turn." She thought for a minute. "Do you miss Kimberly?" she finally asked, smirking at him.

"Oh…..truth. No."

"Nothing about her?"

"Nope."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely. And you've asked more than one question. So I get two…What makes you ask and why?"

Jordan almost looked guilty… "Ah….well….I'm not sure if I should answer this or take the dare." She thought for a minute, her cheeks turning pink. Finally she said, "Truth….well….she's got some….._assets_ I don't have….obviously…..and I just needed to know if you were okay with that," she finished in a rush.

_Assets….what the hell is she talking about…._he thought. Then it dawned on him…Jordan was self-conscious about her looks… "Sweetheart," he began, pulling her into his arms, "believe it or not…that doesn't matter. When I saw you on that sidewalk, the only thing I thought about was you living to be with me another day….another week…. the rest of your life. You're beautiful. Don't let anything Kim said in the hospital worry you. She's just vindictive. She couldn't believe anyone would pass her over for someone else. She obviously has no clue just what kind of woman you are…how much of a woman you are."

Jordan held his gaze for a minute, finally satisfied he was being truthful with her. Snuggling closer, she said. "Okay. Truth or dare, Woody. Who kisses better? Me or her?"

"That is so not fair…."

"Come on. Tell me the truth….or take the dare." She could feel him laughing against her.

"A gentleman never kisses and tells…so I'll have to take the dare."

"Okay…but you're asking for it."

"Try me."

"Kiss me."

"That's the dare? Really?"

"Truly."

"Not much of a dare, Dr. Cavanaugh, seeing I had planned to kiss you several times before this night is over."

"Hmmmmm….but you have no idea how dangerous this could be."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing what she had just said. So she clarified the matter. "When was the last time you really kissed me?"

His brow furrowed…."I guess it was back in that cabin in Virginia…."

"And how long ago has that been?"

"Nearly…." His mouth dropped as he began to see where she was going with this… "four months ago."

"Uh-huh….Sixteen weeks…one hundred and …."

"I get the point…."

"So….kiss me."

He slowly lowered his head to hers, lightly brushing her lips with his…only to have her arms go around him and pull him closer to her, quickly turning the gentle caress into one with a great deal more passion than Woody intended. "Jordan….you're still hurt."

"Dr. Latham says everything's fine."

"I don't want to hurt you…"

"The only way you'll do that is if you don't make love to me…"

He ran his hands lightly down her back, finally scooping her up in his arms. "Well…if we're going to do that….then let's get somewhere that you'll be comfortable." He deposited her on his bed, switched on the lamp on the night stand and began unbuttoning his shirt. She started on her own. "Wait a minute, that's my job," he grinned at her.

He sat down beside her and slowly finished unbuttoning her shirt, gently pushing it away. Her bandages were off, and her scars visible against her otherwise perfect skin. He lightly traced the offending lines. Jordan inhaled sharply. "This never should have happened," he said.

"It's over, Woody."

"But you should have never gotten hurt…"

"No one should ever have to be the victim of gunfire…but it happens. It's not a perfect world."

"Not you. You shouldn't have taken this for me."

She gently cupped his face then, bringing his face to hers. She softly kissed him. "It's okay….you'd have done the same for me. That's what this is about…that's what love is, Woody."

He nodded and pulled her to him again….making good his dare…kissing her deeply, not letting her his hands up her sides, brushing the tender undersides of her breasts with his thumbs. Hearing her moan…until he finally moved over her and loved her until she couldn't think anymore.

Later, brushing the hair out of her eyes and kissing her one more time, he said, "I think it's my turn now….if I remember correctly. So, Jordan, truth or dare …. Are you glad everything worked out between us….finally….any regrets?"

"Truth….yes…I'm happy…we're together. No regrets…Truth or dare. What about you?"

He hugged her close, suddenly thankful for the state of Virginia, unexpected snow storms….and an old high school game. "Truth….none….other than the fact that this didn't happen sooner…"

"Are we going to ever play this game again?"

He looked down at her and smiled…."Sweetheart, if all your dares are as interesting as this one was….probably at least three times a week."


End file.
